For Love
by FurryBoots
Summary: Lauren POV vignette, post season 3 finale.
1. Chapter 1

Science was my first love. Even now, even here, my thoughts are full of her; jumbled equations, enzymes, obscure catalytic reactions. Units of volume. Dosages.

The screaming has quieted, for now. My eyes are raw from tears I can't remember; the sting of salt on dry, cracked lips a miserable constant in a world of nebulous shadow.

I want. I -need-.

_[Please stop. Lauren. Please, stop.]_

I miss you.

I want to stop.

Blood thunders in my ears, a stuttering, anticipatory syncopation that should give the medic in me pause. Not here, though. Not now. The plunger of the syringe depresses in my trembling hand, sending the familiar, heady rush surging through my veins.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tap. Tap. Tap**.

The leaky motel faucet drips insistently, setting my teeth on edge. My mouth is dry as I wake to the dawn; a cloying metallic taste creeps insidiously over my tongue, contorting my features in a nauseated grimace of repulsion. The syringe still hangs from the IV lock in my wrist, and I close my eyes, disgusted with my weakness. Slowly, carefully, I untwist the lock and discard the syringe in the wastebasket at my side, wincing as I hear the telltale clatter of the plastic joining a dozen others.

_How long has it been?_

I search the bedside cabinet anxiously; thin, grasping fingers groping clumsily for my hidden stash. I know I'm a shadow of the strong, resourceful woman I was three months ago; I wonder fleetingly what she'd think of me now.

_Come on, come on._

Finally locating the small metal box, I pull it onto my lap. Fevered fingertips work the clasp, throwing back the lid to reveal the contents.

_One left._

I stare through the box._ Just one._ Already I'm aware of the way my body aches for another hit._ Too soon, don't be stupid._ I don't know what I'll do once it's gone, but I can't, -won't-, think about that now. My flesh prickles, my entire being focused on the solitary, precious contents. As a sudden spasm contracts my hands, I claw ineffectively at the small syringe._ Breathe, Doctor_.

Breathing. Trying to relax, to let the spasm pass.

_Focus_.

I gaze steadily at the viscous green liquid, forcing my brain into reflexive analysis and calculations. The formula is new, an untested adaptation of someone else's science; stem cells, harvested as opportunity presented, without knowledge, and without consent.

Just a simple twist and the contents stand ready, primed, awaiting my decision. I run my parched tongue over greedy lips, but there's no comfort there. A tremulous, faltering breath escapes as the decisive moment stretches into eternity. Seconds pass. Minutes.

For Science, then.

For Love.

The formula soars through my blood, relentless, turbulent waves of ecstasy crashing down, dragging me under.


	3. Chapter 3

The bedside lamp glares unrelentingly, a harsh, unnatural light shining directly in my eyes, an unforgiving interrogator.

_Not dead. Good._

_Thirsty._

With a groan of effort, I manage to roll off the bed and make my way into the tiny, cramped bathroom. A grimy mirror hangs over an equally grungy sink, and I lift my eyes to my reflection as I move to turn on the water. My hand rests on the tap, unmoving.

Grey. I look... grey. Dull, lank hair hangs in untended tangles around a pallid, drawn face, barely recognizable as my own. Dark circles ring sunken eyes, and god... what's that _smell_? Is that me?

_Look at you. All of this, for nothing._

The skin around my eyes tightens at the realization. For nothing. NOTHING!

I slam my fist into the mirror in resentment, a torrid rage building inside me, boiling over. My hands claw in a spasm of bitterness and hot shame as the filthy shards explode, raining down into the sink. As I bite down hard on my lip, fighting for control, a flood of hot, salty blood fills my mouth, drawing out a gasp of surprise and shock.

Too much damage. Teeth..? My tongue explores my upper jaw carefully, hesitantly. Yes. Teeth. Canines, sharp, elongated. Hands... still contracted. Still... clawed.

Oh.

_Oh, god. It worked._

It... worked.

A deep, sharp inhalation of breath clears the fog inside my head.

Strong, now.

_Fae._

_- Wolf. -_


End file.
